A Grave Error In Judgement
by The Dead Snake
Summary: AU from after 5th year. Fudge needs to save his position as minister. What better way to gain respect and admiration quickly than take in the Boy-Who-Lived and the heir to an old, powerful, pureblood family?
1. Fudge

So. Here's another story! How fun. It's not even mine, though. Which calls for a disclaimer: None, and I mean none, of this story is mine. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, the main idea belongs to the author P.L.S., and the bunny came from someone's profile. Okay, so some of this story is mine, but I'm not taking all the credit. Okay? (And this first chapter is entirely mine, save Minister Fudge. And the fact that his "position is in jeopardy". I still can't believe I came up with something like that! =D)

And also, I have no idea how the government works. (Sorry, but history bores me. That's my friend Alex's department.) So if anything is wrong, please don't hesitate to tell me, and I'll try to fix it as soon as possible. Unless everyone hates this story. Then I will just stop working on it until I gain some writing skill.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

Minister Fudge was in a dilemma. After all that had happened, his position was in jeopardy and he was at high risk of being impeached. He needed to find some way of getting his popularity back; he needed to make sure both sides of the war wanted to keep him, and at the moment, it seemed like he was the last person on everyone's list. He requested, no, _ordered_ all his advisors to find ways to get him out of this hole he had dug. But of course, they had no good ideas, as they had been hired because they supported him; not because they were particularly talented or smart.

So Fudge was plagued by this problem as he went through his daily paperwork and lectures, trying and failing to find a way to get back on the good side of everybody. On a Tuesday, one of his employees came in with some more papers to sign.

"Here you go, sir."

"Ah, thank you, Mr. Anderson."

"Sir, if I may interrupt your work-"

"Yes, go on, Anderson."

"I overheard two of your advisors speaking about how they were told to persuade your leadership back into the wizarding population's favor, and-"

"They were talking about that in public? Why—oh, sorry, Anderson, please continue."

"No harm done, sir. I just wanted to say that I had an idea—"

( )_( )

o(")_(")

I suppose the chapter's too short? No worries, I shall finish the other one shortly. And then you can tell me that the chapters together are horribly short.

I used "short" 4 times.

Yes, I did. Go check.

Um. Please R&R. Thank you. Baii nao.


	2. Curses!

Well, hello again. Here's the second chapter.

Disclaimer: All of this either belongs to P.L.S., J.K. Rowling, or some publishing company. And sometimes I borrow from other authors because I like their stuff. So, please forgive me for anything I took.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

Harry was stunned.

He watched in shock as the Ministry official made the final plans with Vernon, making sure that the compensation was enough, talking about how soon a car could come and take Harry away, and basically ruining all of Dumbledore's plans.

In no time at all, Harry was shoved into a fancy ministry car while the Dursleys got rid of all evidence of Harry's existence and the woman who had spoken to Vernon got in next to him and chattered while handing him a scroll. He couldn't take all this in fast enough, the ministry official was being insensitive, and Harry was absolutely positive that the parchment he was holding would inform him of very bad news.

After a minute or two, Harry gathered his courage and opened the scroll.

_Mr. Harry Potter, _

_It has come to our attention that while you are not yet of age you have extenuating circumstances that make it necessary for you to have full use of your wand at anytime when outside of school. To that end the Ministry of Magic, Improper Use of Magic Office, has decreed that you, Harry Potter, have adult status in the Ministry's eyes and full use of your wand and any other magical objects or creatures provided you answer to the adult laws and limitations, as well as follow the restrictions for use of magic in front of muggles._

_Have a pleasant holiday. Yours Sincerely, _

_Trudy Abbot _

_Improper Use of Magic Office, _

_Ministry of Magic_

Harry was stunned. He was able to use his wand? What was going on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SG~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco ground his teeth as he read the letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office.

It wasn't like he ever had to worry about the restrictions like the others. He had always been allowed to magic during the summer. The only thing this letter changed was the fact that now he actually had to care about laws that had never applied to him before.

"Bugger." Draco cursed under his breath as he realized just how bad off he was. Both his parents were in custody of the Ministry. The family fortune was in trust funds and accounts he wasn't allowed to touch until he came of age. The cold manor was in the hands of his father's most trusted butler; thus it was locked and the elves were sealed in sleep until Draco could open the house again. He had nowhere to stay, and had too much Malfoy pride to ask his father's acquaintances for help.

Now he was waiting with a simpering Ministry minion, and all he knew was that the 'warm heart' of Minister Fudge was taking him in for the summer in a ploy for good publicity after that media hound Potter finally proved him wrong and landed Draco's father in hot water with far too much proof to be bought off.

Finally a black car pulled up. Another employee (with pale skin, splotches of fur, and several additional limbs) jumped out, and she, along with the person waiting with Draco, pushed him in. The car took off at top speed throwing Draco on to the seat. Draco's eyes flared open; he was face to face with a seething Potter.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

Well, how was that? I already said, but I'll repeat- this stuff is just barely mine, okay? I just re-worded and changed a bunch of stuff. I like P.L.S.'s stories. I really have no idea why I'm re-writing it. Don't mind me.

Rather, could you please review this, give me ideas to make this my own, and then help me make my writing more mature? I want to get an A in English, and I figure this can be my practice. (I have a C right now.) Please and thank you!

Oh, by the way, I'm really flattered at the people who added my story to their alerts the day I posted the story. Thanks tons for believing in me. =D *uber-happy* yayz.


	3. Snakes

Right. So I'm at the hard part, where I've got to make everything believable, and it'll probably go on for a few chapters. Here's what happens: Draco and Harry have an actual conversation. Luckily, P.L.S. outlined what's going to happen, but I think she goes too fast (NOI at all! She's still ABSOLUTELY BRILIANT, okay? I am just very particular.) So, please help me, and when you've got to go throw up because my writing is so bad, well, many many apologies.

I suppose I should make that a warning. OK:

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. It's mostly P.L.S.'s, J.'s, and maybe a few publishing companies and/or authors.

Warning: Very Bad Writing. Read only if you also write bad, are very critical and can inform me of my mistakes, or just don't care about how well-written a story is.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

"Bloody witch," Potter angrily muttered. "How _dare_ she insult my family." Draco couldn't help but chuckle.

"I insult you and your family daily, but you don't curse my head off. Should _I_ be insulted?" Draco drawled as he relaxed into the leather bench. Potter faced Draco and snorted.

"You don't question their honor or my bravery." Potter gave an evil smile and laugh. "Revenge was sweet, as they say." Draco was suddenly very glad that Potter wasn't planning anything for him.

Minutes passes in silence until curiosity overwhelmed the blond.

"Don't you think it's odd that we are riding in the same vehicle?" Draco asked while staring at the ceiling. Potter made a face at him, and started explaining.

"Fudge is probably trying to pull off a plan to stay on the good side of all involved. By taking me away from my muggle relatives, he makes it look like he's protecting me from Voldemort and helping a hero. If Voldemort manages to win, it'll look like he was keeping me prisoner for the Death Eaters.

"By taking you in it looks like charity work and makes him look good with the older families. If your father gets off Fudge is still on his good side, meaning Voldemort's good side." Potter sounded almost as cynical as Snape. The reasoning that Potter proposed was also very Slytherin, but this was the poster child for Gryffindor Tower spewing out political logic. Draco shoved the questions out of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

"It's good for the media, good for his reelection, good for everyone but you and I." Draco concluded. Potter nodded. Then his mask of coolness broke in surprise.

"Hey, we're actually having a conversation!"

"We are. Very good observation, Potter. And here I was thinking you almost might be a Slytherin."

"I was supposed to go there, you know."

"What? Explain."

"The sorting hat was going to put me in Slytherin, but I remembered what a git you were and decided I'd prefer Gryffindor."

"Brilliant. So even when we barely knew each other we were enemies."

"And now Fudge is going to have us live in the same building."

Potter grinned. "I have an idea. Lets make Fudge learn why even Snape doesn't pair us up." Draco considered it. On one hand he was going to be working with his most hated enemy; on the other it was for a good cause. Ah, hell, causing mischief was so much more fun than worrying over what his father or mother would think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SG~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the rivals plotted, their victim ran all over his manor, pestering his staff of assistants, decorators, and public relation specialists with questions about the good deed he was doing, if they thought the boys would like the rooms, and everything else under the sun. Finally the owl came informing them that the car was in the shire. The letter also said that the aide who was supposed to be chaperoning the boys had been taken to the Department of Mysteries Curse Division due to the severe hexing from the Boy-Who-Lived. That part, however, had been left out when the letter was read to the minister.

"Here they are," the minister's wife exclaimed when the car drove into the yard. She ran up to help the boys out and shrieked when sparks exploded out of the open door.

"Incindio!" Out of the car leaped a boy with bright green hair, singed robes, and a horrendous scowl who, upon closer inspection, was one Draco Malfoy. From the other side of the flaming car came a Harry Potter with horns, a snake's tongue, and muggle clothes that were just ready to fall apart.

"Flamarious Orbulla!" shouted the young Malfoy as he swung himself into a crouching position, ready to strike as Harry Potter dodged the fireball with a murderous facial expression.

"Incizzea! Incizzea! Incizzea!" Harry threw three lightning charms that only just missed his target, and ended up burning holes into Draco's robes.

"Serpensortiera Maximus!" Draco yelled out in fury and a huge snake erupted from his wand and started for Harry who instinctively hissed out a command. The snake wound around Draco and held him. Harry smirked.

"Did you forget about that little talent you helped me discover in our duel in the second year?"

"Bloody hell, Potter. Tell this thing to let me go."

"Do you concede the duel?"

"Fine." One could hear the venom in both boys' tones. Harry muttered an incantation that made the snake vanish, and Draco dropped to the ground, trying to regain the air he lost.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

O.o This time the chapter's really long. Wow. But quantity isn't always quality, so please R&R to tell me how I can put both. 

I do hope I haven't made you sick, by the way. And if I haven't, it's probably because some parts are direct quotes from P.L.S.'s version. The spells are definitely hers or 's, because I'm on holiday and can't look up any real spells. But I changed her cutting charms to lightning charms because I don't think Harry Potter would knowingly make anyone bleed.


	4. Hell

I am back! I figured since I have this out already, might as well post, right? So you got two chapters in one day! Three chapters in two days!

Don't get used to it- I almost NEVER update.

Someone wanna help me with that Peter Pettigrew story? Or do you think I should go ahead and start the story based on Didn't? Review and tell me, please!

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Mostly. Yeah. (I'm sick. My mind isn't functioning too well.)

( )_( )

o(")_(")

Christabelle Fudge, the minister's wife was pleasantly waiting for their two new charges when the black car came into the yard. She was about to open the door for them when it was blasted open, and she stared in shock as the very boys she was supposed to take care of for the summer fought each other as if they were enemies.

"Serpensortiera Maximus!" the young Malfoy roared, and immediately The-Boy-Who-Lived responded in some snake language. Christabelle remembered her mother telling her about how all the dark wizards spoke in Parsletongue, and wondered why the Golden Boy had a dark wizard characteristic. But this lead to more thinking, which gave her a headache, so she put on her biggest, brightest smile and set out to welcome the boys, who would hopefully get along so her job could be as easy as it was supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SG~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"-don't think this means anything, Potter. I can still beat your bony little arse any day."

"You think you can beat me? Then what just happened now?"

"You only got lucky this time. Next time you won't be able to beat me even if your whole fan club decides to join you."

"I don't need them to make you regret knowing me."

"I already regret knowing you!"

"Didn't seem like it when you tried to get me to leave Ron in first year."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know you were so pathetic back then."

"I'm pathetic, but you're the one who forgot I could speak Parsletongue when you're the first one to find out! Face it; you aren't half as good as you think you are. My whole family is ten times worse than you."

"I'm sorry, but I don't love you that much."

"They don't either." At this point, Harry and Draco were in a corridor of the ministry apartments. A ministry official (with much higher credentials than the previous ones- they didn't want to risk losing any more people to Harry or the hospital) was showing them around, occasionally interfering with their conversation.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry paused and looked at him.

"This is where you'll be staying." He opened the door and let Harry step inside. It wasn't really suited to his tastes, but it was much better than the spare room he stayed in at the Dursley's. For one thing, the walls weren't that disgusting cream-gray color one got after neglecting to clean them for a year, as Petunia had when Harry moved in. Instead, they were a nice, calming shade of green. Harry looked through his new apartment, almost forgetting Draco. He couldn't really forget him, though, because he could hear the ferret complaining about his apartment and how degrading it was from the manor.

'Why can I still hear them?' Harry wondered. He stepped outside and immediately ran into the door.

"OUCH"

"Nice, Potter. It's good to know you aren't clumsy to add to your other defects." Harry couldn't retort, however, because the door had hit a very sensitive part on his leg, and his thigh had started bleeding. He rolled up his pant leg and starred at the gash in his thigh.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy! You had to add to the scars I'll have to look at for the rest of my life! It seems like I'm the message board for all the evil bastards in the world."

"Peh, I'm not evil, just a bastard and damned proud of it." Draco snapped back and Harry chuckled, "You got a twisted sense of humor, Potter."

"The kettle calling the pot black." Harry said. And then he had a seizure. Or something like that- Draco couldn't tell, seeing as he'd never seen anyone have one before.

"Potty, stop trying to get everyone's attention. You already have it."

The ministry official was panicking. "Mr. Potter, are you okay? Should I get a healer?"

"Of course he's fine, you idiot! Don't you see him on the ground with his head in his hand? Why would he be doing that if something was wrong?" Harry, surprisingly, appreciated that.

"Mr. Potter, what happened?"

"I think Voldemort's happy." Of course, being the idiot he (along with the rest of the ministry) was, he froze at the Dark Lord's name and slowly crept away.

"So, Potter, what was that? If it was a ploy to get that dunce away from us, then it worked and you can stop. Your acting is rather shabby, though."

Harry ignored the insult and focused on the question.

"Something connects Voldemort to me; I feel his emotions and dream about him plotting and torturing people. Great, isn't it? I even get to be possessed for seconds at a time (but that's easy to fight off). Bloody psycho." Now Harry had started a rant, and he had to finish it.

"I can't even guarantee that my wand will work against his- both use feathers from Dumbledore's Phoenix for cores, and if we cast at the same time they connect and do a Priori Incantem." Harry sighed.

"Why'd a smart guy like your dad ever think that serving a half-blood who thinks he's the Heir of Slytherin, tortures those who swears loyalty to him, wants the destruction of a way of life that has worked for hundreds of years, and thinks getting rid of the only people who really keep our culture from stagnation was a good idea?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to blame it on the fact that my father has a thing for killing and punishment." Draco said with a shrug. Harry smiled tiredly.

"Why did you walk into my door, anyway, Potter? Didn't you notice your apartment ended at your door? Even you couldn't be so stupid."

"Well, apparently you are. Have you noticed how our flats are right next to each other? As in, we're neighbors?" Draco hadn't, and became enraged.

At this moment the minister himself decided to grace their presence.

"Hello, boys. I hope you like your flats."

"No, I don't. It's awful. And why am I right next to Potter?" Without giving Minister Fudge an opportunity to reply, Draco helped Harry up. The boys walked towards the kitchen, bickering about everything except how awful the place was, which they firmly seemed to agree upon.

Fudge watched as the boys openly critiqued his decorating, quality of furniture, and everything else.

He was doomed. He needed help.

( )_( )

o(")_(")

Four pages! Yeah, baby! And if you'll look, a lot more of this is mine than the last chapter. Hurray for me, ya? But that also ups the risk for someone getting sick off of it. Sorry about that. Again, please help me get better! I want to be a good writer. XD Anyway, was this at least slightly decent?

*Please say yes, please say yes*

Because I did take some phrases from P.L.S., but loads of it is mine.


End file.
